unearths some literary gems.
From No Mourning for the Matador, by Delano Ames:
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[Spoken of a pianist] "They said he was a second McCormack [who was apparently a notable tenor], or do I mean Kreisler [who was apparently a violinist]?"
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[Misquoting a reference to death as "the long siesta"] "With our own darling Denis just setting forth on what the newspaper so beautifully said--the long fiesta."
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A shock awaited us in the garage: our car was ready.
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"You'd laugh at me Jane, wouldn't you, if I told you I'd fallen fairly passionately in love? With you, I think."
"I'll laugh at you when you've made up your mind," I promised.
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In between snacks he begged me to accept things like "the desire of the moth for the star" or "devotion to something afar." Though I indicated that I would gladly settle for the latter, he stuck close to us to the bitter end.
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Sir Jasper was surveying the place with an air of superiority though his eyeglass. Without it he would probably have seen us sooner.
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I know Dagobert rather well, and, though I frequently don't understand him when he's talking, I can almost always interpret his silences.
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The road, I remembered, was a series of switchbacks; in the daytime it looked like a badly tied shoelace.